


Conflict Agreement

by justheretoreadhannibalfics



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: I'll post one that's only two words long, M/M, Murder Husbands, No Smut, One Shot, Someday, every time I write a one shot, just fluff, or something, that'll be weird, they get shorter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics
Summary: Will's husband is fussy, but he knows a way to calm him down, while getting something he wants.---Basically, I had two little ideas for things I wanted them to do, but no fic they would fit in currently. So, I wrote this just for the two ideas, and this is what I have.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 128
Collections: Hannibal One Shots





	Conflict Agreement

Will plopped down into his chair at the table, watching as Hannibal moved about, fixing little things around the kitchen. 

He had grown to enjoy watching Hannibal do almost anything. He just moved with natural grace that made every motion like a step in a dance. Will liked to watch the muscles move under his skin, and the way he held himself. He was a nobleman in every aspect of his posture. 

“You’re fussing an awful lot,” Will noted.

Hannibal paused in his movements, looking over to where Will sat. He must have detected the hint of mischief in Will’s eyes, because he raised his eyebrows in responding challenge.

Will spread his hands, gesturing for Hannibal to take a seat across the table from him. They had grown more attuned to each other over time, and even the simplest of gestures could convey full thoughts and questions. 

Hannibal sat, eyeing Will curiously and clearly trying to decide what Will’s intentions were by the silent invitation. Even with their intuition regarding each other, they were capable of hiding certain things from the other if they wanted to. They only ever kept secrets for a short amount of time, though. It was one of many unspoken agreements they had between them.

Will laid his left hand on the table, palm up in offering and invitation. He looked at Hannibal expectantly.

Hannibal put his hand into Will’s clasping it the way he did when he was uncertain Will would stay. The way he did when Will or he had a nightmare, and they needed to be in contact with each other in order to give and receive comfort. Neither of them were wholly unaffected by their mind.

Will smiled, huffing a laugh.

“Other hand,” he said, grinning at the wonderfully confused face Hannibal pulled at the words.

Slowly, Hannibal pulled his hand away and replaced it with his own left hand. He watched Will for any hints to what he had planned.

Will lifted their hands, interlocking their thumbs. He planted his elbow firmly against the tabletop and raised an eyebrow.

Hannibal looked at their linked hands, processing what he was seeing. Will waited for him to fully come to the realization of what he was proposing.

“What are the stakes for this competition?” Hannibal asked at length, “I assume there are some.”

Will smiled.

“You know me so well,” he said, “Winner picks the outfits next time we go out?”

There it was. A spark of interest in the deep maroon eyes staring into Will’s. Hannibal was always trying to convince Will to wear nicer clothes when they went out places, but Will was stubborn, and they both knew Hannibal would never force him to. Just like how Will would never force Hannibal to go fishing or wash the dogs. 

“Very well,” Hannibal agreed, and Will knew he was already planning out the exact suit he would have Will wear. Probably one that would match whatever he wanted to wear himself, so they would look equally ridiculous and fancy. 

Will nodded.

“Then let the game begin,” he said.

They each began to push against the others hand in equal measure. The fun would not be entirely in winning the arm wrestling match. Part of it was gauging how closely matched they really were. They both knew the other was thinking the same thing, and they smiled at each other over their joined hands.

Will admired their hands.

He had chosen their left hands on purpose. Not for any imagined non-dominant comparison. He knew Hannibal was ambidextrous to an extreme. No. He liked the way their matching silver bands looked so close together. Hannibal’s ring pressed against the edge of his hand, and he felt the pressure of his own ring against the mirroring place on Hannibal’s hand. 

Hannibal likely knew that had been Will’s motivation on which hands he chose. He tended to do that. He enjoyed seeing their rings next to each other. They both did. It was a small, but clear way that they claimed each other. It was a signal to everyone that the other belonged to them, and was not to be messed with.

“You must be aware you are at a disadvantage,” Hannibal said as they slowly increased the force they were using, “as my left hand is equally as strong as my right.”

Will lifted his right shoulder in a shrug.

“That’s true,” he conceded, “but I don’t think that necessarily puts me at a disadvantage.”

Hannibal tipped his head curiously. They were both perfectly calm as the pressure increased, and the muscles in their arms stood out more as they strained against each other. It was one of the ways they made the game more interesting. Every game was poker with them. 

“Enlighten me,” Hannibal requested, obviously curious despite himself.

Will just grinned, flexing his fingers and adjusting his grip. He leaned forward slightly and kissed Hannibal. 

It was a dirty trick to play, but Will had discovered that Hannibal always relaxed his muscles when they kissed. No matter what he was doing, if Will kissed him, Hannibal would relax and become more pliable.

Will pushed, and Hannibal’s hand hit the tabletop lightly.

Will pulled away, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“I win.”

Hannibal sighed.

“That was cheating,” he replied, though it wasn’t really a complaint. He was resigned to the fact that Will would be choosing what he wore on their next outing.

“Technically,” Will said, “we never established any rules.”

Will already had the clothes in mind. He wasn’t going to torture Hannibal very much, though it was a constant temptation. He had a tie embroidered with the words “ _ If I Can’t Beat You, My Husband Will _ ”, and he had a shirt that said the same thing over the heart. He had been waiting for an opportunity to force it upon his husband. 

“You are such a sinful creature,” Hannibal sighed, pulling Will up to stand and catching him in a kiss.

Will placed his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders and felt the muscles relax as they kissed, proving his point further. Whenever Hannibal initiated a kiss, he took it slow, romantic. Will was always the one who had to push for more, like he did now. He made sure they were on their way to the bedroom as he bit and nipped at Hannibal to encourage him. 

Hannibal wouldn’t hate the tie as much as he would say he did. Will knew that. He would hate it on principle, but would secretly preen under the knowledge that Will had chosen it for him, and that it was another symbol of their mutual possession of each other.

They were both the possessive type when it came to each other, and they liked it that way. Nothing could come between them, and anyone who tried ended up dead. They liked it that way over any of the other options. 

Hannibal was successfully distracted from whatever had kept him fussing that entire morning, and Will had gotten something he wanted out of the exchange. It had been a mutually beneficial activity.

Most of their activities were.

**Author's Note:**

> The ideas were:  
> 1) Arm-wrestling with their left hands so they could admire their wedding bands  
> 2) The shirt and tie saying that. I just really thought it would be funny. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
